Primal
by MissMandS
Summary: There is something about her that awakens the bloodlust in Mitchell, a deep need for him to sink his fangs in and feed until nothing is left. For George, she awakens the wolf that wants nothing more than to take her and claim her. And for her, they awaken her voice, something that's been lost to her for years. In each other they awaken primal, lustful wants. Poly relationship.
1. Chapter 1

Mitchell's head throbs, his throat aches and his hands shake desperately whether for a cigarette or for the need for a blood, he's not sure. But that doesn't matter. All that matters is he finds the scent, finds the person, the man, the woman, the creature that is giving off the current scent. It's intoxicating, strong and sharp, sweet and tart but bitter all at the same time. The monster in him is roaring, desperate to find the scent and the owner of it. Mitchell walks past other workers, not bothering to apologize as he gets closer and closer to the room where the scent is. The only thing he's aware of is the scent that grows stronger and stronger as he nears the elevator.

"Mitchell." George's voice is strained, his face pale and his pupils blown wide as he shifts from one foot to the other. He's inhaling deeply like the next breath will be his last one, chest heaving as he closes his eyes.

"You smell it too then?" Mitchell demands as George comes to a stop beside them.

"I, I need it." George says and flushes as the elevator dings, the doors opening painfully slow.

Mitchell doesn't want to lunge, not at first. He lingers there, savoring the moment before he lunges and sinks his fangs in. He'll them while they're still on the elevator, before they can even think. The woman stares at him, at George and blinks then calmly reaches for the close door button. Mitchell's stomach turns to stone as he sees the look on her face. There is no fear, no worry, and no anxiety on her face even as the doors close with a bang and her scent is gone, leaving Mitchell with tighter trousers and a worried feeling in his chest.

* * *

I love both Mitchell and George and find them both adorable. I've kind of just been on a kick with the Almighty Johnsons and Being Human. If you've ever read any of my Hobbit fics then you know I can sometimes lean towards the poly relationships...I haven't tried that yet with this fandom but here we go. Next point of view will probably be George and then our main character.


	2. Chapter 2

The scent lingers in the hospital for days after the girl appears, hanging in the air and even clinging to his scrubs. George sits on the edge of his bed and tries to decipher the exact scent. There's honey and lemon, it's almost minty but not quite. Cherries and a sharp, tart, musky scent. George lowers the scrubs from his nose, throwing them towards the corner of his room. He falls back onto the bed, covering his face with his hands.

This is absolutely ridiculous. The girl doesn't even have a name, a face, nothing. She is nothing more than a scent that makes heat curl in the pit of his stomach and the wolf fidget. He is not going to think about her anymore. He is not going to think about her scent. He is not going to think about what the sharp, tart and musky scent could be. George closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep. He tosses and turns for a few minutes before finally he throws the covers back and grabs the scrubs, lifting them to his nose as he closes his eyes.

* * *

Their lovemaking is rough and sloppy. There's nothing sweet or slow about, nothing dragged out. It's fast paced and desperate. The woman underneath him is slumped over, her hair covering her face as she lets out moans. Her feet scramble on the ground, searching for some kind of purchase, only to dig into the dirt as he George thrusts harder.

The scent of rutting is overwhelming, lewd and pungent. Beneath him the woman lifts her head and there's a smirk forming on her face as she turns to look at him.

"He's watching us." And George lifts his head to find that a pair of black eyes is watching them, primal hunger in them as a pair of fangs flash and he gives a final thrust, screams echoing.

George wakes up with a start, falling back against his pillow with a groan. He's hard, straining against his briefs but there's something wrong. The scrubs are gone from his grip. George is up immediately, looking around his room and searching.

"You didn't tell me that you had the scrubs." Mitchell says in the doorway, holding them to his nose.

"Mitchell! Give me my clothes!" George cries.

"You better take care of that thing before Annie comes up with your morning tea. And I just want them for a little bit."

* * *

I'm so sorry about the length of these chapters, my muse is refusing to work with me lately but I want to get something out so I don't lose all my drive for this story. I'm nearing the end of my first year of college so everything has suddenly come crashing down with stress, lol.


	3. Chapter 3

There is talk of some pain associated with menstrual cycles in this chapter: pelvic pain and abdominal pains along with discussion of pelvic exams. There is non-graphic, implied mentions of bullying too.

* * *

If she is being perfectly honest, Joey cannot remember the exact moment that the woman walked into the room. She only remembers looking up and seeing a tall woman with an angular face and sharp features not looking the least bit bothered by the floating objects up in the air or by the fact that people lingered in the doorway, all of them whispering and making a point not to look directly at her. She walked straight towards her and knelt down, inclining her head. Joey noticed how streaks of silver shot through her ebony braid but she said nothing about that, she did not offer a greeting or smile. She waited until the woman lifted her head and offered a smile that was neither malicious nor was it friendly.

"Hello there Joanna, do you know why I'm here?" The woman asked and raised a thin eyebrow. The words were not spoken aloud by Joey but thought, quiet and soft. The woman heard them nonetheless.

"I like Joey. And you're here because I can make things happen—like this." And Joey looked towards one of the blocks that floated in the air.

"Okay Joey, yes that's why I'm here. Do you make these things happen whenever you're angry or sad? Or can you make them happen whenever you want to?" She makes them happen without meaning to sometimes. When she panics, doors slam close and the locks click into place, not giving way even as the person on the other side pounds and demands entrance. She can make them happen intentionally, barring people from rooms with a single tilt of her head, a shake or nod.

"Both."

"Is there a reason why you don't like talking out loud?" The woman asked and Joey almost smiles at her. What is the point of talking aloud when all she could hear were other voices that talked about her: 'she's a menace', 'a danger to herself and others', 'unnatural' and her favorite 'oh, that poor girl'. As she ticks them off one by one the woman's face falls more and more until she's standing up again, her face an unreadable mask as she holds her hand out to Joey.

"You are only as poor or pitiful as you allow your situation to make you be. There are some that are uncontrollable and leave you with nothing but pain and unable to search for anything but help because you are so poor. But this, a gift does not mean poorness."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Mona."

* * *

There had been some significant changes since Mona's adoption of her. She was no longer subjected to the phrases of poor girl, danger to herself and others or freak. Mona loved to sit for hours, going back and forth whatever she was doing and Joey, watching as she moved things throughout a room. But the one significant change that would not come, no matter how much Mona hoped and waited and watched was for Joey to speak.

She spoke of course through her mind and she could hear the words clear as a bell when Joey allowed her to. But when she opened her mouth there were no sounds. She did not laugh, did not giggle or scream aloud. Mona had heard the sounds before in her mind and she valued the rare times that Joey had allowed her to hear them. This morning though her mind is closed off, her face blank as she stares at the wall.

"Do you want to have breakfast before or after your doctor's appointment?" Mona asks, her hand hovering over the cabinet door handle. Joey's face contorts and Mona smiles sympathetically as she lowers her hand.

"I guess we'll wait until after then. I promise that the doctor won't be so bad." Mona says, watching as Joey grabs hold of a notebook and pen. She writes furiously, shoving it across the table with a raised eyebrow.

"What's not to love about a doctor sticking their gloved and often bony fingers into my vagina while they make sounds like 'oh' and asking questions about vaginal discharge and such. If I've been having vaginal discharge or my vagina looks weirder than it already does, don't you think I would have come in sooner?" Mona reads aloud and snorts.

"Well, not everyone goes in as soon as they should. Now go get dressed and please don't make the tongue depressors float in the air like last time. The nurse had to spend half the appointment picking up broken glass."

Half an hour later Joey sits in the hospital waiting room with her legs tucked underneath the chair and her hands shoved underneath her lap, watching each person that passes by them. Mona sits beside her, halfheartedly thumbing through a magazine and looking at each nurse that passes them by.

"How much do you want to bet they don't get your name right?" Mona says as a nurse sticks her head out into the waiting room.

"Johanna?"

"She goes by Joey." Mona says as they stand up, walking towards the nurse. She looks from the chart to Joey, gesturing for them to follow her.

"So I read on your chart that you are a mute but you know sign language? That being the case, we have an interpreter available that will be in the room with us." She says.

"We know how it goes, don't worry." Mona reassures her and gives Joey a small elbow to the side, urging her to give the nurse a somewhat stiff smile.

The nurse who introduces herself as Nina leads them back to a room, motioning for Joey to hop up on the examination table. She takes Joey's blood pressure and checks her heart rate, writing them down on the chart with pursed lips all the while.

"I'm sorry that the interpreter isn't here yet. Did I have my choice we would have a different one than this…He's a bit of an idiot in my opinion." Nina says as the door opens and Joey's stomach twists itself up into the knots. She can remember him from the last time she was here, the hunched, desperate, predatory look in his eyes. The strain of his erection his scrubs, the way he looked so needy, so wanting.

"George this is our patient, Joey. George, George. Excuse me, could you please pay attention or I'll have them send someone else." Nina snaps, glaring up at George.

"What? No, no, I can handle this, sorry, I was just in a rush. There was a small problem with another patient, I'm here. I'm here now. Joey, your name is Joey." Joey's fingers grip the edge of the table, her legs curling under it. There's a tickling at the edges of her mind, a small bubble building that sounds like a giggle building. But then she nods her head, up and down and it's gone.

"Okay Joey, your blood pressure and heart rate were normal. What are you visiting us for today?"

"My doctor seems to think it's appropriate to make me appointments for things I don't need then not show up to them." George says as her hands fly through the signs.

"Pelvic pain, doesn't like the doctor sticking their hands up inside her." Mona says wryly.

"Ugh, who does? Can you describe the nature of your pain for me?"

"Like someone is taking a knife and stabbing me repeatedly in the vagina then moving up my abdomen. Oh my, well that sounds rather unpleasant." George says, clearing his throat as red creeps up his neck.

"Are you on any form of birth control?" Nina asks and at Joey's head shake reaches for her clipboard. As she writes Joey risks a glance towards George. He doesn't have the same predatory look as before but looks more uncomfortable. He shifts from foot to foot, adjusting his glasses time and time again and rubbing at his reddening neck.

There's something sweet about him, not quite threatening like last time. Joey's lips twitch upwards in a smile and she loosens her grip on the examination table as he turns to meet her eye. The red creeps further up his neck and engulfs his face as he clears his throat, looking anywhere but at her.

The tickle is back, stronger this time. Joey crosses her ankles tightly and listens to the sound, muffled by the bubble: light, childlike and it's most definitely a giggle but who it belongs to she has no idea. It's threatening to burst as her mouth opens and a part of her wants to let it but then Nina is looking at her, eyebrows raised.

"Is that all right? I'll do the pelvic exam, draw some blood and we can discuss some birth control options with you. See about helping with the cramps." Birth control, cramps, exams, blood. She's here for the doctor, yes. Joey nods and Nina smiles moving towards the sink, she looks over her shoulder at George.

"Are there any female interpreters available? George? George, female interpreters, please." The predatory look is back in his eyes. They're not threatening but growing darker, his feet shifting more now as his nostrils flare. When he meets Joey's eye again his tongue darts out across his lips as he nods somewhat shakily.

"I'll go find one for you. Right away." When she notices the slight bulge in his scrubs she closes her legs a little tighter, tucking her hands under her lap.

* * *

Hey, look at the a longer chapter. Sorry that these last couple chapters have been so short but I've been struggling to get a grip on Mitchell and George's personalities and it's been difficult for me to write them without feeling forced. I should hopefully (knock on wood) have somewhat of a grip on them the next time I update.

Reviews make me update faster! Let me know what you liked, disliked, questions, what you want to see, know...They're what feed me.


	4. Chapter 4

Mitchell scowls down into his cup of black coffee and tries again, to ignore his throbbing headache. The coffee is burnt but he suspects it's the only thing worth drinking here and the only thing that will maybe take the edge off his headache. There are others in the cafeteria, most of them workers playing on their phones or talking amongst themselves before their breaks end. But then there are a couple people, visiting patients. Their expressions vary from worried to outright upset to fury. Mitchell can only imagine what his looks like and with a small smirk lifts his coffee to his mouth. When he lowers it, grimacing a little at the taste finds George leaning against the table, looking a little out of breath.

"She is here, she is here right now. Her name is Joey and she may or may not think I'm an idiot but her name is Joey. I don't know what that's short for or if it's her name or what. But I know her name." George says rapidly.

"Who the hell are you talking about?" Mitchell asks and lifts the cup again then thinks better of it and pushes it away.

"The girl who's scent we've been obsessing over for the last few weeks…" George lowers his voice. This has Mitchell on alert, scanning the hospital cafeteria for the girl, for Joey. Her scent is unmistakable but it's not here, among the food and burnt food. Annie has been watching them mope around the house and even threatened to take away the scrubs from them. And now she has a name, Joey.

"She's here now?" Mitchell asks.

"Yeah, I was the interpreter for her doctor's appointment. She's mute, apparently. Has a nice smile…" George trails off, looking over Mitchell's shoulder. A woman enters the cafeteria, typing away on her phone as she heads towards a table. She's older, her features sharp and angular, nothing about her appears to be soft. Her hair hangs down her back in one long silver and black streaked braid, stopping just short of her waist.

"That is not how I remember her being." Mitchell says wryly. George rolls his eyes, gesturing towards the woman who sits at a table, still typing.

"That's not her. That is the woman who was with her. I have no idea where Joey is and it's not like we can just go up and ask her. Oh my God, she's looking at us." The woman looks murderous in that moment from the way she narrows her eyes to the way her fingers slowdown in their typing, moving from the phone to the table top, tapping slowly.

"Just smile, let's not scare the humans. Smile like a normal human would, smile at the creepy looking lady." Mitchell says, nudging George's side. The smile she returns is a relaxed, easy one that is not directed at them but at Joey who rushes over to the table.

Mitchell is hit with her scent once more but unlike last time there's fear in it, tinged with anxiety and uncertainty. She looks shaky as she sits down, pushing dark strands of her hair from her face and gripping the edges of the table.

"Did you run into someone?" The woman asks.

"There might have been some fangs flashed but I showed him what a true creature of the night looks like." Mitchell looks around the room for the voice, looking first at George then around at the others. It's a woman's voice, not quite light, a little dry, and deeper than Annie's and Becca's. And it doesn't belong to any of the women in this room. He turns towards George and finds him staring at Joey.

"Did you hear it too?" Mitchell demands.

"Yeah, yeah I did. I'm still hearing it, listen." George demands and gestures towards Joey.

"Stop it, Joanna Finn, I swear." The woman is whispering and attempting to glare at Joey who looks all too amused as she stares at something across the room.

"Oh, stop I just want to see how long it takes…I give it five more seconds." There's the sound of Styrofoam sliding across the table and Mitchell turns to see Becca sitting alone, staring at him. He barely notices the expression her face over the cup of coffee, sliding closer and closer towards the edge of the table. Becca's head jerks up and she lifts an arm excitedly; not noticing how the coffee cup topples despite the face she misses it.

"Joanna Finn." The woman hisses but looks amused still as she covers her mouth, looking away from them, attempting and failing to hide a smile from them. Joey looks amused as she stares at the cup, the liquid and the lid still intact.

"Do I need to start putting a leash on you when we go out nowadays?" The woman asks and Joey only looks more amused.

"What are you looking at?" Becca is in front of him now, blocking his view of the two women.

"Oh, ah…We thought we saw someone we knew." Mitchell says.

"Oh, well. Do you care if I talk to you for a few minutes?"

"Actually I need to get back to work but I'll talk to you later, okay?" Mitchell gives her a tight smile and walks away. Glancing over his shoulder he finds the woman staring at him again, nails tapping on the table and Joey giving him the tiniest hints of a smile.

* * *

Sorry for any mistakes but it's getting late and I am looking at a very stressful school week. Tuesday involves two tests, registering for classes, a lab then picking up a girlfriend to go meet one of our favorite authors and then double up on labs on the next day.


	5. Chapter 5

George stares at the people walking by him in the park, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. It's not exactly cold; the sun is shining down and offering quite a bit of warmth. But it's one the lonely days and that seems to make everything colder. Annie sits beside him, offering up the occasional comment on the people that walk by them. Eventually she sighs, leaning back against the bench she crosses her arms over her chest and looks at George.

"Are you thinking again?" Annie demands.

"I'm trying not to think Annie, that's the problem." George mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face. This place is full of people, of young parents pushing their children around in strollers and moving to claim empty playground equipment, elderly people who sit together or alone on other benches. George pulls his jacket tighter around himself, trying in vain to ignore the happy chatter of some of the couples as Annie leans into his side.

"Would you tell me about that girl you and Mitchell have been pining over?" George considers saying that they haven't been pining but Annie moves her elbow so it digs ever so slightly into his side.

"I saw her the other day in our hospital; she's a mute it seems. Only I could kind of hear this voice, over the wolf…It was more like laughter but I could hear it in my head on and off. Dark hair, light eyes…I saw a couple of scars on her hands." Annie is sitting up now, a slow smile spreading across her face as she looks from George towards the swing set.

"Is that her?" George's neck nearly pops he lifts his head so fast, looking towards the swing set where Joey does indeed sit in the middle one. It's different this time, there is no scent, no overwhelming smell and his wolf is not fighting to get out. The look on her face is an unreadable one as she stares down at a picture in her hands, digging her toes into the gravel as she rocks the swing back and forth. Annie makes a partly sympathetic, partly worried sound as she looks towards her.

"She looks so sad, like she's just realized she's a ghost. George, what if she's a ghost like me and can't cross over to the other side? I'm going to talk to her." Annie doesn't give him a chance to object before she's sprinting across the park and running towards the swings. She doesn't lift her head but slows the swing down as Annie comes to kneel beside her. George watches the emotions that cross Annie's face: wonder, sympathy, sadness and then hopefulness as she grabs hold of her hand.

"Come on, I've got a friend over there George. We're used to different and strange things so your gift…Well it'll be quite a gift indeed, now come on." There's some reluctance from Joey but Annie's smile is a persistent one and then they're walking together across the park and towards him. And still, there is no scent of any kind rolling off her. She hesitates just short of George, looking at Annie and trying in vain to slip her fingers from her grip.

"George this Joanna…Well she goes by Joey. You two already know each other but now you can meet again. Joey told me that she has a gift. Show George." Annie gives her a small shove forward, nodding encouragingly. There's a small hesitation, her lips parting only to close as she looks between them and then George feels it. At the edges of his mind there's a small tickling, a whisper and mumble not forming any words as she continues to stare at him. And then the voice, despite being nearly inaudible echoes in his head like a shout.

"Your friend tells me that we need to meet." George swallows hard at the voice, looking anywhere but at the two women as he attempts to school his face into something calm. When he lifts his head he nods slightly, holding out one of his hands.

"Annie is a bit persistent when she puts her mind to something but I promise you that she's harmless." The tickling is stronger this time and the mumbling is chased by a small giggle. Annie grins triumphantly, nudging Joey and then tossing George a knowing look.

"See? I told you that he would understand your gift. I'll be right back, just need to use the toilet." It's a lie George knows as she ducks from view behind a tree and watches them together. Joey hesitates then sits down slowly, folding her hands across her knees.

"I'm sorry about Annie; she's sort of like a mother. She has this determination that everyone should feel happy and have things go in their favor, even if it embarrasses them."

"How come my voice does not scare you?"

"How come Annie doesn't make you nervous, how come you're not nervous to sit alone with me when I could be a serial killer or eat cats? Not that I do those things of course."

"If you ate cats you would be more likely to work at a hospital and serial killer. I don't get that vibe from you." Joey gives him an almost smile then leans around him, frowning. There's a nervous gleam in her eyes, her hands curling into fists before she's standing up.

"I have to go now but…I come here a lot if Annie ever decides to be persistent again." Her voice trails off and the tickling feeling creeps away then stops all together. She stuffs her hands into her pocket then spins on her heel and walks swiftly out of the park.

* * *

Annie keeps throwing small smiles and expectant looks at George after they've returned home. She hovers on the edge of the couch with mugs of tea in hand, eyebrows raised as George continues to stare at the TV.

"Did you smell her?" Annie finally asks.

"I couldn't, there was no scent on her." George shrugs and hopes this will be the end of the conversation but with Annie that's not the case. She hums disappointedly and slips down to sit next to him, frowning.

"She told me that it was her gotcha day but her mom had work and they couldn't celebrate so…"

"Gotcha day?"

"The day that her mom adopted her. She looked so sad that I invited her over tonight and got us a rainbow cake to make for her gotcha day; don't be mad." And without another word, Annie sprints into the kitchen as the oven dings.

* * *

I am sorry about the time it took for me to update. This has been sitting on my laptop for a while but things have continuously gotten in the way. Please excuse any mistakes as I have had an extremely stressful day. My grandma passed away last week and her funeral was yesterday which I couldn't go to due to school and finals being next week. I'm taking care of my house, my dogs and trying to get ready for finals. I had a stress induced breakdown this morning. When it rains it pours...


	6. Chapter 6

**WARNING: Slightly graphic depictions of violence **

* * *

Joey glances down at her phone again, frowning at the text: '_Be there soon, traffic is bad. Love you, Mona'. _All she has ordered so far is a soda for her, one that has gone untouched expect for her straw to be stirred around in. The restaurant is fairly crowded with couples, groups of friends and even some people alone, her being one of them. The atmosphere for her is an uneasy one, her mind elsewhere.

The park had been meant for her to be left alone, to think about the gotcha days and the years before, without Mona. The arrival of Annie had been unexpected. Curly haired and doe eyed she had looked at her first like something to be examined closely and then it'd changed to warmth as she wrapped a hand around her, somewhat cold as she pulled over to George. His reaction was more unexpected than his presence. Annie had invited her to their flat with promises of rainbow cake and tea, only to dash off without a number or an address. And then Mona had texted her that they could have dinner albeit a little late.

Joey lifts her head from her drink, pulling her hand away from her straw and lowering it to her lap. There's a woman sitting across from her now, tapping her fingers repeatedly on the table top. Sitting in front of her is a glass of amber liquid, nearly empty and Joey wonders how long exactly she's been sitting there. The woman is lifting her head now, giving her a wide smile.

"You look a bit different than Seth described you as. Way he described it I was expecting some amazon woman, ready to rip my throat out…Not that you'll be the one ripping any throats out." There's a dangerous gleam in her eyes, sharpness to her smile as she lifts her drink to her lips. Joey remains silent, pulling her drink closer to herself as the woman's smile widens. The restaurant seems to be getting louder, a dull roar forming beneath the sounds of talking and laughter.

"What's the matter? Haven't you got anything to say now? From what Seth told us he nearly had you cornered and he was going to drink from you. You nearly put him through the wall; poor man suffered a sore back." There's a tickling at the edges of her mind, a scream building and threatening to erupt. In her shoes her toes curl, the tickling slowly turning into a sharp poking, digging itself into the edges and threatening to grow, threatening to turn into a screech that breaks and bounces throughout her mind and everyone else's in the restaurant. Joey stands up on stiff legs, pushing her untouched soda away. The woman looks more and more amused as she stands up, sticking her hands into her pockets.

"What's the matter? Are you leaving so soon?" Joey doesn't answer, keeping her head down as she walks hurriedly from the restaurant. She steps around staff and people who hover by their tables, her head down as she steps outside. Joey stumbles out of the front doors and into the alleyway behind the restaurant. The tickling has become an insistent nagging, sharp and prickling, the scream echoing in her head. She leans back against the wall and grips her head, digging her nails into the side of her head as the scream lets go. Her mouth opens, hanging soundlessly as the scream bounces around her head, raw and rough.

"I'm disappointed in you. Is that all you can do is scream little girl?" The woman is standing at the end of the alleyway, smiling at her. In that moment Joey is not behind the restaurant. She is not in the alleyway. She is not in the dark. She is not staring at the strange woman. She's somewhere far darker in her mind and she does the only thing that seems appropriate in that moment.

The woman is launched backwards, hovering in the air for a moment. The expression on her face is startled one as she hovers and then her mouth is open in a shout as Joey throws her, aiming for one of the walls of the building. She lands with a sickening thud, her hands flying to her head as she crumples to the ground. The garbage cans are rattling, their lids rolling across the ground and their contents spilling, some going through the air. Some of it ends up on the side of the building, others on the woman who is lifted up once more. And Joey continues to scream, the sound growing rawer, rougher and rougher.

"Ah, Jesus!" The cry is unexpected and for a moment things slow down; the trash can lids stop their rolling, the garbage lowers towards the ground and the woman looks torn between being grateful and being infuriated at the sight of George who stands with his hands clapped over his ears. "Joey it's okay, it's only me. Please now, you've got to calm down."

"I don't know how!" The words are a roar, nearly drowned in the screams as the woman is launched against the wall of the building. There are more footsteps now, a man's voice and another woman who screeches. There's the sickening sound of a skull smashing against brick and then a broken groan. All she can hear are the sounds of screams, her screams, the roar of voices in her head, the children's voices teasing and taunting. The sickening thuds of skulls meeting brick, of flesh slapping the ground, of metal clanging, the scent of ripe garbage is all overwhelming.

"Johanna!" Mona is walking towards her now, ignoring the hands of George and Mitchell reaching for her as she comes to crouch in front of Joey. She grabs her face between her hands, pressing their foreheads together firmly as the trash can lids clatter to the ground, the garbage falls and the women crumple. Joey blinks at the fuzz clouding her vision and tries to focus through the dull roar filling her ears. For a moment everything is white, overwhelmingly fuzzy and white; blocking everything else out. And then she is staring at Mona, at her pinched brow and twisted frown. She is staring at her mouth as she says the words: 'call an ambulance' and then she is pitching forward as everything goes black.

* * *

Mitchell doesn't have to lift his head to know there's a gleam in Herrick's eye; one part smug, one part amused. Lauren is standing next to him with an ice pack to the back of her head and scowling, her jaw clenched. Seth smirks widely, flipping his notepad open and waving it back and forth at Mitchell.

"We've convinced Lauren here not to press assault charges. I can't promise that we'll have the same luck with that other friend of yours." Seth has a gleam in his eyes as he says it.

"It's Laurens fault for taunting her in the first place. She was just defending herself." Mitchell says quietly and Lauren huffs angrily.

"I was only following orders. Herrick wanted me to see if Seth was telling the truth. I work hard and in return I get a concussion." She spits. Herrick holds a hand up, silencing the two of them as he steps towards Mitchell.

"I think we can all agree that we want the same thing. I wanted to see if it was true that this girl could do what Seth claimed she did. And you Mitchell, you have some sort of feelings for this girl don't you? You want to drink from her, hmm? Not that I blame you, her scent is rather intoxicating. You aren't the only one though are you? That doggy friend of yours seems interested too." The smile spreading across Herrick's face is a sickening one as he steps closer to Mitchell.

"I'll let you have her. I will. It will only be a matter of time after all until you snap and feed from her. And then when you do, don't be afraid to come back to us." Herrick gives his shoulder a squeeze and without waiting for a response turns and walks away. Mitchell lingers in the hallway for a moment longer, listening as their footsteps fade. Scrubbing his hands over his face he sighs and ignoring the twisting in his gut walks back towards the main hallway. There a few nurses lingering about, their heads bowed close as they whisper. Some of them stop their talking as Mitchell comes close to them, their eyes widening as they scurry off. The only nurse who doesn't scurry off is Nina who stares down at her clipboard with a frown, shaking her head.

"I don't understand this. Becca has a concussion, some bruises, a couple of broken ribs and they say it was only a really bad cat fight. She was on a date with you, what happened?" Mitchell isn't sure how to describe what happened. The sight had been terrifying, even for him. Lauren and Becca's bodies being flung back and forth like rag dolls, slammed up against the brick with crunches and cracks. It was like a child's sick game, one which they had no control over. That explanation won't satisfy her though he knows as she stares at him expectantly, eyebrows raised.

"Someone attempted to assault my daughter and Becca tried to intervene. There was more than one person though and they didn't play fair." Mona's voice is calm, her face smooth as Nina turns to look at her.

"Is she going to be okay then?" Nina asks and Mitchell feels relief trickle down his spine when she seems to believe the lie.

"She'll be a little shaken up for a while as I imagine that poor girl Becca will be but yes, she'll be fine." One her hands creeps up his back, settling on his neck with a firm, solid grip as Nina's pager goes off. She sighs, lifting it and looking at them regretfully.

"Shit, sorry about that. I wish your daughter all the best in her recovery." As soon as Nina turns around Mona is steering him towards a room, her grip tightening on his neck. Her face remains calm, not betraying any emotions as she pushes him into the room where Joey lies in a bed, an IV in her hand and monitors on her chest. George sits next to the bed, wide eyed and anxious looking as Mona sets Mitchell next to him. She moves to the other side of the bed and sits down, crossing her legs.

"I know what you are; I was married to one of your kind once. And now I would like an honest answer. That girl that tried attacking my daughter, did you turn her into a vampire?" Mitchell hesitates; dread creeping up into his chest and constricting his throat. She knows. She was married to a vampire. Mona is staring at him, her face expectant. George is staring at him with wide, fearful eyes.

"If you lie to me then I will slit you from brain to belly and not feel an ounce of guilt over it." Mitchell swallows, ducking his head as he nods his head up and down. They had to sneak Lauren in like a dirty little secret, hidden in a desolate hallway. And they'd snuck her out like a dirty little secret, out of a desolate hallway.

"And you, what are you?" She's looking at George now, her steely gaze off of Mitchell yet still he cannot breathe right.

"Who says I'm anything?" George's voice climbs an octave.

"George after what we saw tonight…I think we all have some questions that need to be answered." Mitchell says quietly and George lets out a huff of air, crossing his arms over his chest almost defiantly as he mutters 'werewolf'. Mona sits back in her chair, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"What would you like to ask now?"

"You were married to a vampire you said. What happened to him?" Mitchell begins and there's the slightest bit of amusement on Mona's face.

"I didn't stake him through the chest if that's what you're wondering. We were married for nearly thirty five years and then divorced peacefully, shortly before the adoption of Joey. Carter and I remain in contact as friends. As for you, I knew what you were because you exhibited a lot of the same behaviors he did when thirsty and just behaviors of a vampire in general."

"Okay we've established that you aren't a murderer of vampires. Now about your daughter, what in God's name was that?" George's voice escalates again, cracking at the end.

"Carter was friends with Joey's parents. They hadn't been friends for very long, only about a year or so. He had been dry for several years with the occasional slipup of course. He had little to no contact with other vampires, ones from the clans he had formed and occupied before we met. It had started as a command from another vampire, rumors that her parents were superstitious and were determined to wipe out vampires from the planet. The word got around to Carter from a vampire attempting to leave their own clan."

"Carter agreed to help them leave and in return Joey's parents were to be left alone. But of course; like being dry things don't always go exactly as we plan for them to. The police declared it as a robbery gone badly. It was decided that they had been attacking her parents, heard the screams of Joey and ran out. In reality Carter realized it was a set up and was too late. He ransacked the house to make it look like a burglary and…He did what he thought was right. The vampires that killed her parents had run off already and the one who set up the whole thing let them be staked right then and there."

"We let the police handle things with Joey and the estate was settled by the lawyers. Carter though. He couldn't heal. No matter what we tried, said or did the grief only got worse and eventually it started to consume him. I suggested that we visit Joey and he agreed. The social workers were very concerned."

"She hadn't spoken a word since her parents' death which was chalked up to the trauma that she suffered. But there were things happening; toys moving on their own, plates being broken, spoons and forks being bent. The other kids bullied her mercilessly and it only increased the incidences. Carter had told me that her parents mentioned some similar things but that they had wanted to explore it more." Mona trails off, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She sighs, shaking her head as she looks at them again.

"We'd wanted a child for some time and the idea of adopting Joey, it seemed perfect. Carter was worried though that his desire to feed would be greater than his desire to be a father. We divorced peacefully and Carter moved away. She was about six when I adopted her."

"And that thing with her voice, and the moving things about with her mind. Does she always pass out after that?" George asks.

"No, that only happens when she exerts too much energy."

"I have one more question. Can you explain to us why…We feel this desire I guess to be around her and her scent drives us," Mitchell doesn't get to finish his sentence as Joey begins to stir. George stands up, pressing a hand to his back.

"Thank you for answering our questions, we ah…We wish you all the luck in the world?" George trails off, looking unsure as the two turn and walk out of the room.

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Any questions, please let me know and I will do my best to answer them!

Have an extra long chapter because you've all been great readers for putting up with me during this time. Things are looking up for me and I hope it continues that way. I also just realized like last week that my pen name and my OC...My pen name is nowhere close to my real name; I kept wanting to call a different OC in another one of my Being Human fics Joey so that happened.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: There is a poll up regarding this story that if you would like to go vote on, please go ahead and feel free. I will keep it open for a couple of weeks to allow people get their thoughts in and decide what they want. Anyways, enjoy! I'm starting to write extra long chapters!

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Transformations are not what are scary to George. It's not the bone snapping, crunching, twisting and reshaping that his body goes through. It's painful yes, painful enough to force screams and screeches from his mouth over and over again. It's not the way that he stumbles around as he struggles to maintain some control over his body. What's scary is how he feels his self-control slowly slipping away from him with each second that passes. It goes right through his fingers despite his attempts to grab onto it.

And in that moment, when his head falls back and his mouth opens to let out a howl that splinters the night air and sends wild animals scattering he knows exactly how Mitchell feels. When he hears a sound that could be anything, a squirrel scampering, some dead leaves being disturbed by a deer that are enough to send him into a sprint. And he's determined to hunt that sound down, hunt down the creature making that sound and tear it apart. A stag, a squirrel can be on his list of victims, taken down with loud cries that echo throughout the forest. And self-control is lost in his sprinting, in the ripping of a stag's throat and the howls in the air. That's the scary part for George.

The worst part though is when he comes to in the morning. The air has a slight chill to it, the ground covered with leaves and sticks and uncomfortable. There are leaves clinging to his hair, dirt covering his skin and he notes with a sour twist in his gut, blood under his nails.

"How the hell did you get out here?" The voice gives him a startle, making him turn sharply to look at a man who sits behind him. He relaxed, his hands resting underneath his chin, his elbows on his knees as he continues to stare at George. "Got no clothes, no transport. Guess you'll ring someone. But God only knows where you keep the change for the phone." It takes half a second for him to react. George stands up and begins to run, his limbs stiff and unsure from their night of lying on the ground. He's bringing one hand down to cover himself when the man's voice rings through the forest again.

"George come back! George! I know what you are!" George stops, panic seizing his chest.

"What?"

"I know what you are." The man's voice remains impassive.

"And what's that?"

"A werewolf."

"Why would you say something like that?"

"Because I'm one too. I know what that girl is too." George gives him a thin lipped smile and turns again, hand still covering him as he walks off. He can't get away fast enough from the man who walks hurriedly behind him.

"I just wanna talk. Are you gonna walk home like that? I brought some spare clothes, at least take them. You'll be arrested…" George turns, taking a small step back to put some more distance between them. The man nods and tosses the clothes towards George, gesturing for him to go ahead.

"Where did you get these clothes? You said that you transformed as well last night but you're dressed, you've got these. How do I even know you are one of them? And what girl are you talking about?"

"This soon after your transformation and your senses are still in overdrive. Sight, smell, hearing, all off the scale. And every one of them is talking to you, screaming at you that this is true. And that girl I'm talking about is the one you share a soul bond with. Look I've been doing this for years; I've seen a lot of soul bonds. There are loads of things I've discovered. Not just the clothes, tricks of the trade. Things that will make it just a little bit easier." The man has started to circle him now.

"I don't want it to be easier; I don't want it to be something I accept and allow into my life. And there is no such thing as soul bonds; I believe you're making this up as you go along."

"Oh no sure, you're a single hospital porter obsessing over the scent of a human with telekinetic abilities."

"I have a life, I have friends, and I live with some friends. I do. A ghost and a vampire actually. And you know nothing about her and neither do I actually."

"A vampire, huh? A vampire who shares a soul bond with you and that girl."

"Yes, they exist too and again, I believe you are making that up."

"Yeah, I know they exist. I keep getting beaten up by the bastards."

"Who are you anyway?"

"People call me Tully."

"Well how did you find me?"

"You're a werewolf living in Bristol. It kind of narrows the field…"

"Why? Why did you find me?" George snaps.

"Because…Safety in numbers. I hear stuff. Something's about to happen and I figure we should stick together."

"What's about to happen?"

"Ask your friend."

"Well anyway…Thank you for the clothes. But this, uh-uh. Don't try to follow me. We're done here." George says firmly and with a final look at Tully turns and runs from the forest.

* * *

At home he's greeted by Mitchell's excited face who grins at him as he drags him inside. He doesn't give George a chance to speak before he's rushing ahead.

"Excellent, let me introduce you to everyone." Mitchell guides him into the living room where a variety of strangers sit. George glances over the faces, overly aware of the filth that still covers his skin as Mitchell introduces them. He catches a mutter of something about Vin Diesel and then he finds himself staring at Mona who watches him over the brim of her teacup. She lowers it, giving him a neutral smile as she inclines her head.

"I think that Mitchell has gone to retrieve some more cookies if you would like to help him." Mona suggests, raising a slender eyebrow. George nods and then turns, following Mitchell out of the room.

"What is Mona doing here? I thought you considered her a crazy woman and…What are all these people doing here? Where's Annie? Where is…Joey's here." George takes a deep breath, curling his toes at the scent lingering in the air. There's a small, halfhearted twitch from his cock in his trousers at the dying scent but it's still enough to make George flush red to the very roots of his hair. Mitchell leans back against the counter, keeping his eyes trained above the George's head as he nods. There's a slightly glazed look in his eyes George notices, his upper body almost hunching over.

"Oh my God, her scent affects you too." Mitchell sighs, turning away from him and returning to the tea.

"She's upstairs with Annie. She and Mona came here before the others. Joey said that too many people in a room can make it hard for her to focus and Annie wanted to talk to her."

"Isn't that risky?"

"Annie's a ghost and Joey can not only communicate with her but can see her. It makes her happy George. Besides we're not exactly innocent ourselves; you've slept with scrubs that have her scent and I…I stole those scrubs. Annie has since trashed them. My point is it's a way for us to immerse ourselves in humanity, on both sides." Mitchell slips his necklace back into his hand and shoving a cookie into his mouth walks back into the living room. George slips his glasses on and with a sigh walks upstairs.

He can smell Annie or what he imagines Annie used to smell like. There's the scent of teas and paper, honeysuckle and body wash. Overlapping that is the scent of Joey which grows stronger with each step he takes until he's at the top of the stairs. He can hear Annie's voice spilling from her room, low and quiet.

"I saw Owen and he was with Janey Harris…Of all the women he could have picked. Not that I wanted him to pick anyone. I guess a part of me wished that he would take longer to grieve. And there's this really selfish part of me that wishes he had never stopped grieving and been alone forever. But you know that's really selfish isn't it?" There's silence and then George hears a voice, out loud. It's slow and somewhat awkward.

"Nnnn, n—n—no." He doesn't mean to startle the two women when he sprints into the room and nearly takes the door off its hinges. Annie glares at him then turns back towards Joey who looks just as shocked as they are, looking back and forth between them.

"Did you just speak?" George asks.

"I believe that she did."

"Oh my bloody God, excuse me." George grabs hold of Tully's arm and tugs him from the room. He waves at Annie and Joey, giving them an easy smile.

"I'll be right back." George tugs him down the hallway and into his room, ignoring the small space and messy bed as he shoves him into the corner.

"I thought I told you not to follow me." George snaps.

"I didn't need to; I've known where you lived for weeks. I was thinking about your friends. You know, I wanted to meet them." George takes his glasses off, sighing irritably as he paces his room.

"You are _not _meeting my friends."

"I am housetrained you know."

"Tully!" Mona's voice cotrained you know."uts through the air like knives. Her eyes are sharp, her nostrils flared. She keeps a firm grip on the doorway, her nails digging into the wood as she steps into the room. For a moment she lingers there then pushes past George, not even uttering an apology as her shoulder bumps his. Her heels clack across the wood as she walks towards Tully, backing him into a corner.

"I thought that I smelled dog." Tully doesn't look the least bit bothered or insulted by her words, grinning and holding his arms out as if to hug her.

"Mona, it's been so long since I've seen you. I didn't know that you had moved to Bristol. Are you still married to Carter?"

"Put your hands on me and I will rip your throat out. Carter and I are happily divorced, thank you. May I ask what you're doing here?"

"I am here to help George manage the condition and make it safer for him, for everyone around him. I can make it safer for your daughter," Mona recoils as if she's been slapped, backing away until she nearly steps into George who puts his hands up. "What is there to object to about that, hmm?" There are three, light and quick knocks on the door and then Mitchell is peering inside, shoving a cookie into his mouth.

"Everything all right George?"

* * *

He finds himself back downstairs, staring down into a cup of tea with a somewhat bitter twisting in his gut as Tully shares a story. He's not the only one feeling the bitter twisting he notices. Across from him Mona sits up straight, dragging her fingers across the rim of the cup and frowning with each word that spills from his mouth. Joey sits next to her, looking from the cup back to the spot where Annie sits.

"So now I've got a name. I got a pretty good sense of the place he was using to transform then it was just a case of biding my time."

"So you've been sleeping rough?" Annie asks.

"Well now and again someone will offer me a bed. But that usually means sharing." Tully says, winking at Annie. The crashing comes unexpectedly. It's loud and sharp, echoing throughout the room as Mona stares down at the teacup, now shattered into pieces on the floor.

"I'm so sorry about that. Let me get that." Mona doesn't wait for any objection, kneeling down and picking up the pieces.

"Let me help you there Mona." George joins her on the floor, skimming through the large pieces of glass. Behind him Annie lets out a low whine at the loss of some of her china but remains silent otherwise as Tully launches into another story about sleeping outside; the earth his pillow and the stars his canopy. Mona straightens up and walks towards the kitchen, George following after her. He waits until they're out of earshot before he looks at the older woman, her face hidden behind a curtain of silvery black hair as she dumps the pieces into the garbage.

"Mona I hope that you don't mind my being nosy. I don't think you will since you know I'm a werewolf and you barged into my room earlier. We haven't seen each other for about a month. And now you just happen to show up at our flat for neighborly introductions and know Tully." Mona straightens up with a sigh, holding her hands out for the glass in George's hands. She doesn't throw it away immediately, staring down at it with a forlorn expression on her face as she shakes her head.

"It was just a teacup but I allowed my anger to get the better of me and dropped it. It shattered and now I can't put it back together. It's like a person. Break them, say you're sorry but that doesn't fix it. You haven't seen us for a month because I've been trying to hide my daughter from you and Mitchell, keep her safe from you both." There's a small coil of hurt in George's stomach at her words as she continues to stare down at the pieces of glass.

"I am very protective of my daughter. I would give my life for her, like any parent would I imagine. You live in a dangerous world, as does Mitchell. Her scent affects the both of you; even if you think you can conceal it well. When she and I entered the house earlier Mitchell nearly doubled over. And he's not exactly quiet in the bathroom even with the sound of running water." George flushes and whether it's embarrassment for Mitchell or over his lack of tact he's not sure.

"Tully mentioned something earlier and it was about Joey, I am pretty sure. He said that Mitchell, Joey and I had soul bonds." Mona's head snaps up like a puppet whose strings have been jerked. For a moment she looks as if she might be sick but then she is turning towards him, her breathing slightly erratic.

"Soul bonds, yes I know what they are. They are extreme emotional, physical and mental connections that beings share. It can be all three, only two or one. It just depends. But you share an extreme connection with that person. You share the same pain. An example being if someone had a physical connection they could feel if that person was experiencing stomach aches, cramps. They might double over in pain if the other person is in danger with emotional connections. Mentally, they can wither if the other one does not thrive or they do not…How do I put this? It's like how depression eats away at your soul. It just sort of eats away at you bit by bit."

"But I haven't felt extreme physical pain or been depressed because Joey and Mitchell are sad or worried or anything like that." Mona hums and shrugs her shoulders.

"Yes, but you've not known Joey long; and you haven't asked Mitchell about his connection with her. Have you ever felt pain when Mitchell is going through withdrawals or perhaps when he's exhausted, have you felt tired?"

"Not that I can remember. Have you ever felt or had a soul bond with someone before?" Mona's smile is somewhat bitter, somewhat sad and a little bit resigned.

"I had one with Carter, emotionally. But it was not strong enough for us to save one another from our grief. You do the best you can with it." Mona says and turns back towards the garbage, dropping the pieces of glass into the trashcan as Mitchell comes into the kitchen, going straight for the fridge.

"Mona can I offer you a beer? And George, Tully is going to be staying here for a couple of days." George doesn't miss the flash of anger that goes across Mona's face as he grabs hold of the fridge, peering down at Mitchell.

"What the hell are you doing? He cannot stay here."

"I told you. We need to embrace humanity, let the world in." George gestures towards Mona.

"Isn't that letting the world in? And he isn't human."

"Well in that case neither are you."

"It's Annie I'm thinking of. She's very low at the moment, very, very vulnerable. And Tully here is putting her under a lot of strain already you can see it." George turns towards the living room where Annie sits laughing.

"Then let Joey spend the night here. If he is putting such a strain on her, let her stay here. She seems fond of Annie from what I've…Seen and heard. She can help her feel less vulnerable, less low." Mona says carefully.

"That's a great idea. She can stay here for as long as she wants or however long you're comfortable with. Annie won't mind volunteering her room I'm sure." Mitchell holds up two beers and with a grin turns back towards the living room. George sighs resigned and turns towards Mona, glaring at her. Her face remains impassive as he points back and forth between them.

"I'm sorry; I thought that you were on my side here." Mona walks out of the kitchen, motioning for him to follow after her. "Does no one respect privacy anymore these days?" George mumbles but follows after her anyways, up the stairs and back into his bedroom. She settles on the edge of his bed, folding her hands in her lap and staring at the wall. She's silent for a long time, keeping her gaze focused on a spot where the wallpaper is peeling until finally she talks.

"I want to protect my daughter. This is my first duty in life and the most important thing I have to do as a mother, as her mother George. When I was a little girl I thought the only monsters lived under my bed. Then when I was a teenager they lived in my head. Then I realized they were real too. When I was married to Carter it didn't matter much what happened to me. I was mortal. I would die someday if he didn't change me; from disease or old age or natural causes. Carter could move on. Then I adopted Joey and my world suddenly shifted. Everything was dangerous. Everything had suddenly shifted and taken on a new appearance to it. I suddenly had a new duty between the time now and the time in which I would die from whatever took me which was to protect Joey."

"There's a part of me that wants more than anything to flee from Bristol and take everything we have with us. Maybe try and find Carter again, try to fix things between us and start over. But another part of me that sees this soul bond between the three of you and the way that she helps this…Annie. And then I feel selfish. Allow Tully to help you manage your condition, listen to his advice but do not let his pretty words sway you. He will cross you as soon as he will help you." She warns.

"Do you know something that I don't, Mona?"

"Nothing that's on a need to know basis." She stands up from the bed and moves towards the door, hesitating there. "George. Everything will be okay in the long run. Not yet but sooner or later it'll be okay. You just have to trust that."

"Ah Mona, wait one more question before you go. You said that both Mitchell and I had a soul bond with her and we had a soul bond with each other. How does that work exactly?" Mona looks back at him, eyebrows raised as she shrugs.

"Ever heard of poly relationships?" And that is finally enough of an excuse for George to faint.

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Again please go and vote on the poll. I will keep it open for a couple weeks, leave reviews because they make me update faster!


	8. Chapter 8

**WARNING: Implied murdering of a child.**

**Reminder**: There is a poll up for this story about the roll of Nina. I am just trying to get a genereal feel and would love thoughts, opinions. Leave me reviews.

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The child stares up at him, one hand on their blocks and the other one reaching for their truck. They are a picture of innocence from the perfectly rounded face, the button nose; down to the smile they flash him as they hold out one of the blocks to Mitchell. They've got no idea the blood on his clothes belongs to his parents, that it's coating him in layers. On his skin, in his hair and that he can still taste it in his mouth, that they were fighters, determined to protect their son. He cannot remember his name though.

"Do you want to play?" And he almost laughs because the monster is still raging at the human blood flooding his throat, at the blood that pumps through the small body. "Well? Do you mister? Do you want to play?" And it takes him a moment to realize that he hasn't answered the child yet who is still waiting.

"Yeah, I want to play. I would love to play." Mitchell doesn't crouch but falls to his knees, excitement taking over his body. The child will not fall for charm and grace. He wants to play with Mitchell, wants to be a part of this game that Mitchell's playing that's left him covered in blood.

And sure enough it's easy to coax him, with falling down and telling him it's a game of solider. Mitchell tells him: 'I was in the army once, you know' and then it's a matter of seconds, of fangs sliding out and eyes changing. The child screams and flails and then,

Mitchell sits up with a scream and a wail, similar to the one that the child let out. It takes him a moment to realize that someone is staring at him, someone that's not Annie. Joey stares down at him, lips parted and hair in disarray as she puts a hand over his forehead and then down his cheek. His skins covered with a layer of sweat, not blood and she's talking to him, her lips aren't moving but he can hear her voice in his head.

"Annie is making tea; it's over whatever it is." She's sitting on the edge of the bed now, pulling her hand into her lap as she watches him. Mitchell sits up slowly, scrubbing his hands over his face. It was an entire family he wants to tell her, an entire family that just went out together, and one after the other. But he doesn't because he can hear Annie's almost footsteps on the stairs and then she's coming into the room, making small shushing sounds as she hands him a tea and runs her hands, soothingly cool over his skin. The tea may as well be ashes in his mouth as he gulps it down, handing the mug back to Annie who joins Joey at the foot of the bed. For a while they sit together silently, resting but not sleeping. They're sucked into their own little worlds, tasting the leftover ashes of their nightmares in their mouths and trying to pick through what's reality and what's dreams. At some point George joins them, one hand covering his mouth as if scared opening it will make all the ashes spill out and across the bed sheets, the bedroom and fill the flat.

"I remember when my parents died. I came downstairs because I heard yelling and then there was this woman looking at me, cornering me. She had blood on her mouth and kept talking to me, kept asking me: 'are you ready to die, little girl?' and went to choke me. There was a man watching it, not saying anything but just watching it. She went to grab me and…I threw her back against her husband and out the door….I don't remember anything after that. It was pure luck, done out of fear." Joey stops, closing her eyes and looking down at the covers. When she opens them again her lips are closed and her voice is echoing through their minds.

"I have nightmares only I don't get them off me. The woman drinks from me and then I wake up and Mona's staring at me and telling me that it will be okay." Annie stands up from his bed, running her hands over her clothes and smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles.

"I'm going to make some more tea. Does anyone want some?" None of them want any, Mitchell knows. George slips off the bed without a word and heads back for his bedroom, Joey follows after Annie. Mitchell cannot stomach the idea of tea, cannot handle the idea of swallowing anymore ashes. But Annie looks so hopeful that it will soothe him and put him back to sleep that he says yes. He falls asleep before she even returns with it, the child once more asking if he would like to play, rounded face, button nose and smile flashing.

* * *

Two things happen quickly. It does not take long for Tully to become obnoxious for Mitchell. He's tolerable at first, open and kind of funny. But then he starts eating the food which he attempts to be understanding of. The man has been living rough after all. But then he keeps eating. And eating more. And more to a point of excess. And still Mitchell tries to be understanding. But then Tully eats Mitchell's cereal. Still he makes Annie smile and gives her a sense of humanism, making her almost solid again so he swallows down his annoyance.

And it does not take long for Joey to become a common sight in their house. Her scent seems to permeate absolutely each and every surface in the house, a fact which Mitchell does not mind. When he realize that it covers his blankets he lies face down on the top of his bed, nose pressing into the sheet and morning wood grinding down into the mattress. His mouth is open, fangs descending as his hips continue their steady rhythm; eyes turning black. It's only after he comes down from the afterglow of it all that he realizes his blanket is ripped and his pillows shredded.

If she notices then she doesn't say anything. She steps into the flat, offers Mitchell a smile and then joins Annie for tea. If she notices his toes curl when a breeze blows through an open window, his nostrils flare or him sprint from a room then she doesn't say anything to him. Most of the time she's stolen by Annie who drags her away with a squeak and a squeal; babbling on about tea and what little origami thing that Tully has left her that day. This morning however is different.

Joey sits on the couch, her back ramrod straight as she stares at Mitchell who rushes around, grabbing his jacket and searching for his keys. He can hear Annie, puttering around upstairs, probably looking for Tully's latest gift. Mitchell had been on the receiving end of his latest, the stink from the bathroom unfortunately still hanging in the air and goes as far as to reach the living room. Joey glances first at him and then at the door.

"She's coming." Her voice overlaps with his thoughts and the buzz of the doorbell. He groans, dropping his jacket from which he hears the clinking of his keys as he goes for the door.

"Morning!" Lauren sounds cheerful, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses as she leans up against the doorway. "Are you…Gonna let me in? You have to invite me across the threshold? That is _such _a mental rule, who made that up?" And still her tone is perky, cheerful and light. From the couch Joey picks at her nails, looking first at Mitchell's back and then at Lauren.

"She followed me here." This causes a spike or irritation to flare in his chest as Lauren turns and waves at a neighbor, calling out a greeting.

"Oh for Christ sake, come in." He yanks her inside, slamming the door behind them. The first thing Lauren does is slip her sunglasses off and go straight for Joey. Both of their expressions are blank as Lauren sits down next to her, tapping the arm of her sunglasses against her lower row of teeth.

"Hard to believe such one insignificant human could hold so much power in her little body, hmm. Yet you threw me up against a wall. Good thing I'm already dead, thanks to that thing over there. Has he told you how many people he's killed yet? Did you kill anyone yet? Oh, wait…Oh my God, he hasn't turned you. Yet you nearly killed someone for him." Mitchell's frozen to the spot, his nostrils flaring with fury as he watches Lauren play the game. She's baiting her, trying to get her to take it and to play along with her. It's all a part of her game.

"I know what he is and what you are. Becca's healed quite well from her concussion last time I saw her at the hospital."

"I wanted to kill her right then and there. I wanted to kill you but you didn't let me. I was only twenty years old, how old are you?" Joey doesn't answer this time; her expression continues to remain neutral.

"What are you even doing here? Herrick's already cut me from the rest of the vampires. If he thinks sending you here," Lauren cuts him off with a scoff.

"Why does this always have to be about Herrick? What is it with you two? You're _obsessed_ with each other, it's totally gay! Besides I'm here for her. Herrick has been showing some interest in her. At the idea of having his very own human toy, not for play but for show. You know, when he's about to change one, to kill one. Let her put on a little show for them all, throw them around, bat em around like a kitty cat." Lauren actually leans towards Joey; poising herself over the girls dark hair she takes an inhale, lips curling up for a moment before she sneers.

"You smell like a dog but I guess that's the pet. Herrick will make sure to get rid of that scent right away. He'll make sure you fit right in. And haven't you heard Mitchell? Her vampire daddy is back. I met him the other night you know, asked him if he wanted to play or not. But he claimed cleanliness and swore his heart still belonged to your mom. See Mitchell, there's something you have in common. Neither of you get it. It's like _Hotel California_. You can check out but you can never leave." And just like last time Lauren is lifted only this time it's by Mitchell who shoves her out the front door, locking it behind him with a shudder.

Joey sits silent after the lock slides shut, watching him with a blank expression then stands up and offers him her hand. Mitchell does not open his eyes though and continues to lean against the door, knees quaking as he slides down. He cannot open his eyes to look at her, not with Lauren's words still swirling around in his head. She knows now that he's killed and now she will never look at him the same again. Jesus she probably will not even come around anymore. But her hand wraps around his arm, squeezing it. It's real skin to skin contact with someone other than George or Annie, someone that does not make the monstrous part of him go wild for the first time in months. Still he stares at their feet as she helps him stand up.

"Come on." Is all she says and tugs him towards his jacket and keys.

"Where are we going?"

"You are going to meet Carter."

* * *

Mitchell half expects a mansion with big gardens and a sprawling front lawn, all protected by a gate or some guard that will eye him warily. It's not a mansion but a two story house, the front garden well maintained with a variety of flowers and ivy creeping up the brick. He stands on the walkway that leads up to the house, looking at the peeling paint on the shutters as Joey continues on, inhaling the freshness of the flowers.

"I'm glad a little bit of paint is peeling I was half expecting the guard to be demanding to let me know who exactly this scoundrel hanging around young Johanna is." The only response he gets is an almost smile as she gestures for him to come inside. Mitchell takes another deep breath and steps inside.

He's only inside for a couple of seconds when he finds himself pressed up against a wall, stake raised in the air as black eyes gleam in the lights and fangs flash at him. Carter reminds him of a savage, tall and long limbed with dark hair and sharp features only made sharper by the sharpness of his glare. Any thoughts of fighting, of pushing the other vampire off and stealing the stake from his hand slip from his mind as soon as he meets Carter's glare. There is no fierceness or promise of death in his gaze, only protection, protection he knows for Mona who stands in the doorway and Joey who still stands behind Carter.

"I'm not going to hurt them; Joey invited me here to meet you." Mitchell says carefully as Carter's fingers tighten around his throat.

"I know who you are John Mitchell, I've heard all about you. From Lauren and Seth and Herrick, I got to hear all sorts of stories. I've met Carl and Dan too, met all sorts of vampires who know you and you stories. But I've not met you." The stake is pulled away and stuffed into his pocket and then he is lowered to the ground. Carter actually smiles at him and extends one of his hands, watching Mitchell's face. Behind Carter he catches sight of Joey nodding and motioning for him to actually take it.

"Why don't you come and help me in the kitchen Joey? Let's leave the two of them alone." Mona says and Mitchell feels his neck prickle as she does exactly what she asks her too; leaving him all alone with the other vampire. Carter says nothing, eyes flickering up and down him, taking in his clothes, gloves and hair. There's no words exchanged between them as he motions for him to follow him outside.

Carter guides him through the backyard and underneath an enormous Weeping Willow where a table and chairs sit, a tray of tea with an assortment of treats resting on the table. Carter sits down and without a word begins to pour for the both of them, motioning for him to sit down.

"So Joey invited you here to meet me?" Carter asks and slides the tray of treats towards him. Mitchell picks over the cookies, picking up a cupcake and peeling the foil away with a small grimace.

"We had a small…Incident about a month ago with a woman from the hospital I work at and this woman I turned, Lauren," The look that Carter gives him over his teacup tells him that he knows exactly what he's talking about. Still he remains silent, sipping on his tea and motioning for him to continue on. And Mitchell does, telling him everything from the beginning up to that point. Carter listens silently, sipping on his tea and nodding until finally Mitchell is done.

"Mona called me to inform me that Joey had formed a soul bond with a vampire and a…Werewolf. While I cannot say I am particularly happy about either I do not have much say, what happens will happen as she is an adult. And besides something about you and this werewolf makes me curious myself, you've helped her find her actual voice. Well that and your ghost friend Annie."

"I have chosen to embrace humanity…Like you. But how do you do it? I feel hunger around her and arousal, her scent affects me so much. My flat mate, the werewolf feels the same way and it's the closest thing we've had to normal and I don't want to take it from him but…" But he wants to taste. He wants to sink his fangs into the skin of her neck, her thigh, the back of her knee. He wants to taste and let it the blood run into his mouth, down his chin until there is nothing left. Then it sinks in the words that have just come out of his mouth to none other than Carter who is staring at him with an eyebrow raised and the cup now lying broken on the table, tea dripping onto the ground.

"As I said she is old enough to make her own decisions. As for you and your flat mate, nothing is less attractive than a pissing contest between two men or two women for that matter. Love is not a competition."

"So what do you suggest that I do? Mona made my flat mate faint the other day and he stayed like that for the duration of the day."

"There are such things as poly relationships." Mitchell snorts into his tea as he stares across at Carter.

"Have you ever been in one?"

"Yes. Mona, myself and Tully." It's enough for him to start choking on the tea which becomes stuck in his throat. No amount of coughing and throat clearing helps it either. Carter holds out a cigarette which Mitchell accepts with shaky hands.

"So…You three, together? You were a trio? How did that even work?" If Mitchell still had the ability to blush then he would as Carter answers each question, goes over the logistics and explains to him just how things worked. Mitchell's working on his third cigarette as Carter comes to the end of his talk, shrugging.

"It's different for different couples though. What worked for us doesn't work for everyone."

"Tully is here you know." Carter waves his hand dismissively at Mitchell.

"I know; it was me who attacked him. The reason that Mona and I left Tully was because his behavior had begun to grow increasingly erratic and worrisome to a point that we feared for our safety. When he attempted to bring other women into our relationship without our consent and without talking things over with us first we decided it was best to move on. He has attempted contact over the years on and off but stopped."

"You should be careful around him Mitchell. He can be charming, charismatic and a wonderful man. But his behavior can easily do a one eighty if he wishes for it to. He has strict orders to stay as far away from Mona and me as possible lest he wish to be physically harmed."

"How do you do it Carter? The whole being clean, being involved in their lives and not hurting them thing?"

"I left because I had to. I settled for having letters, videos, watching from a distance and giving the occasional yearly visit while sending birthday presents and such. I love humanity. I love Mona. I love Johanna. But I can only separate the things I love from my vampire side for so long before the lines bleed into each other. And then I leave again." The words offer little hope, little comfort to Mitchell. The lines are already bleeding into each other, have bled into one another before. Then Carter is standing, crushing his cigarette beneath his shoe.

"Come on inside and help us make…Lunch, dinner, tea? I don't keep track of time. But if I were you Mitchell, I would not mention to Mona that you want to drink from her daughter or that her scent makes you aroused. Woman can make a stake out of anything."

And later as Mitchell watches Carter and Mona together he tries to ignore a bitter stab of jealously in his gut. The two exchange small touches, glances and smiles as they pass by each other. There are moments when they think no one is looking at their fingers brush and they almost, almost slip their fingers together. But then Mitchell sees pain flash across Carter's face and a resigned one across Mona's as they pull their hands away. And as he stares at Joey who sits with her knees tucked up underneath her chin is how utterly fucked he is.

* * *

So how do you all like getting three different points of view? And again, go vote on the poll because it will be up for a while. I'm exhausted so editing will come later.


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